Teatime at Thirteen O'Clock
by Kerrigor
Summary: The Auditors have returned with plans to assassinate the Goblin King Jareth. Now Death must summon two very special young ladies to stop them and, with luck, find his lost relation.
1. Chapter 1

(please know that I don't own Discworld, Labyrinth, or The Chronicles of Narnia)

(please know that I don't own Discworld, Labyrinth, or The Chronicles of Narnia)

**Teatime at Thirteen O'clock**

**Or**

**Ms. William's New Adventures in the Labyrinth**

**Or**

**A Family's Tale**

**Chapter 1**

**The Fortress in Nowhere**

**The Shortcomings of Death**

**A Teatime of Some Importance**

**The Old Clients**

**The New Contract**

The Fortress stood in Nowhere. Technically it existed in its own pocket dimension but Death in his cunning way had named the dimension Nowhere, so it really exists in Nowhere. It was Death who had built the fortress. It was very simply built. A solid wall ten miles thick set around a stone cube of a building. Neither the wall nor the building had doors or windows because Death had no use for them.

Death had created the fortress for one important purpose, to hold a single human soul. Death's general interest in all things human had turned as of late to causes and effects of mental illness in Humans. I intrigued him how a creature could fail to think correctly. The fortress held Death's secret pride and joy in this matter, the ultimate case-study for abnormal psychology.

Death had made one critical error in this, save keeping the soul at all; he assumed the fortress could not be broken into because it was in a pocket dimension only he could enter. There were no guards therefore and the only precaution taken within the fortress was to keep the soul chained so it couldn't move an inch 24/8.

But something entered Nowhere. Something crossed the ten mile wall. Something entered the prison without any doors. And once inside, something made an audible coughing sound to get the souls attention.

The shimmering figure of young man looked up and saw nothing but a shimmering cloak in the air.

Mr. Teatime?

"It's pronounced Teea-tor-mee," the man said slowly in a strangely high strung voice, "everyone always gets it wrong."

We are sorry we're sure.

"Are you another one of death's creatures?"

No

"Than what are you?"

Your former clients

Teatime smiled.

"You're the ones who wanted to exhume the Hogfather."

Correct.

"I knew my friends would come."

The chains that held him broke. And the soul of Mr. Teatime stood up straight.

We wish to offer you a new contract.

"Don't you want me to finish the last one?" Teatime asked concernedly, "It seems most inelegant to fail a contract."

That contract is closed. The Hogfather is no longer an acceptable target. We are willing to offer life in exchange for the death of another.

Teatime seized up and saw his shimmer take on substance and become a body.

"So, will this be easy?"

No, the target is well guarded and processes extreme knowledge of magic. It will also require traveling to several other worlds.

"Sounds like fun. I will need to know the targets background information, and of course who he is."

The information shall be implanted into your brain, replied the Auditor, as for who he is…

A piece of paper with a sketch on it appeared in Teatime's hand.

We shall call him the Gent with the Weird Hair.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**The Woes of Ms. Williams**

**A Discussion of Hygiene in Undeveloped Universes**

**The Call of Death**

**The Watch**

**A Good Breakfast**

Sarah Williams gave up typing. It was a routine. She spent six hours a day at her typewriter banging her brain against her head for a story. They used to come so easily to her. It used to be so easy to write a good story. It had made her so much money.

But the stream had dried up. She couldn't even get a fragment. She looked at her clock. It read nearly midnight. Normally she would still feel wide awake at midnight, but she hadn't actually slept for three nights. She felt the darkness of exhaustion well up. Her face hit the keys just as the clock struck midnight.

Sarah woke with a start at the clang that came from the kitchen. She was not surprised to find her self in wrinkled clothes in front of type writer covered in gibberish from where her face hit the keys, it happened often enough. The sound from the kitchen was slightly more disconcerting since she lived alone in the apartment. She went to her closet and fished out an old three foot two by four with some nails sticking out of one end. It was not the traditional baseball bat under the bed, but it had always worked before.

She made her way silently into the main room-cum-kitchen. There was no one in there now but she smelled bacon and heard a sizzling coming from the stove in the corner. She went over and saw that the burner was on and on top of it was a frying pan she didn't own. In it eggs, bacon, and bread fried together. What was strange was the wooden spoon seemed to be managing them perfectly well by itself.

It was just about to turn the bacon when Sarah heard the toilet flush and a clamor come from the bathroom. Sarah had just enough time to run behind the sofa at the other end of the room before the bathroom door opened and she heard the sound of heavy boots on the floor. She then heard a raspy voice speaking to itself, "She's got a proper flushing toilet in there. Very posh this Universe. I remember when we used to just piss out the windows at UU. My first dean had a student stand below him with a bucket while he shit out of a third floor window. Incredible aim that man. And he was considered fastidious as hell… Oh sir you've let the eggs get a little black, here let me." There was a clinking noise as the old guy probably took over from the spoon. There was a long pause before he spoke again and when he did it sounded like he was responding to some voice only he could hear, "No, no sir…I'm sure she'll go for it." There was silence again as Sarah came to the startling realization that his burglar was probably insane. She decided to act. Being careful not to make a sound, she crept out from behind the sofa to see an old man with his back to her working on the stove. She got just behind him and raised the makeshift club. The old man never looked up but said in conversational tone, "I'd put that down if I were you lass." Sarah was thrown off guard, but only for second because then she heard the cold dark voice behind her say, AH, YOU MUST BE MS. WILLIAMS.

Sarah acted on instinct. Whirling around she brought the club down on the person behind her. The club went straight through the figure and became imbedded in the floor. Sarah looked up, and then up again to find herself facing a seven foot tall skeleton wearing black hooded robes and carrying a scythe.

I'M AFRAID HUMAN WEAPONS ARE NOT VERY EFFECTIVE ON ME. The skeleton said.

"What…What are you?" Sarah stammered.

I AM THE AMPROPHOMORFIC PERSONIFICATION OF DEATH.

"What?"

I AM A PHISICAL EMBODYMENT OF DEATH.

"And…does this mean I'm…"

NO, THIS IS NOT A PROFESSIONAL CALL.

"So," Sarah began to feel her heart rate return to normal as she shakily moved to a chair, "why are you here?"

THIRTEEN YEARS AGO YOU DEFEATED THE GOBLIN KING JARETH, CORRECT? Death asked as he sat in a big wooden throne Sarah didn't remember ever seeing before. Sarah was bewildered for a moment. She had never told anyone about her journey to rescue her brother. Not even her family knew. But then of course this was effectively the Grim Reaper. She supposed he knew everything.

"Yes." She replied finally.

GOOD, YOU'D BE SURPRISED HOW MANY MS. WILLIAMS' THERE ARE ACROSS THE VARIOUS COUNTER UNIVERSES. I SHOULD EXPLAIN. I AM NOT YOUR DEATH. I AM THE DEATH OF AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE.

"An alternate Universe?" Sarah asked, "So what do you want with me?"

I NEED YOUR HELP, Death replied and if anything his voice grew grimmer, THE GOBLIN KING JARETH IS IN DANGER AS ARE YOU. THERE ARE BEINGS IN EVERY WORLD LIKE I AM. IN MY WORLD THEY ARE CALLED THE AUDITORS. THEY ARE THE CIVIL SERVICE OF REALITY. THEY MAINTAIN THE ORDERLY RUNNING OF THE COSMOS. THEY ALSO DESPISE HUMANITY.

"Why?" Sarah asked even more confused.

YOU'RE A MESS TO TRY AND CONTROL. YOUR ABILTY TO IMAGINE AND BELIEVE NAUSIATE THEM. UNFOURTUNRTLY, I HAVE GIVEN THEM THE ABILTY TO DESTROY BELIEF AS WE KNOW IT FOREVER.

At this point Death cracked his knuckles making a sound like felling trees.

THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME THE AUDITORS HAVE DONE THIS. LAST TIME THEY TRIED TO OBLITERATE BELIEF THYE HIRED AN ASSASSIN NAMED MR. TEATIME TO DO THE JOB FOR THEM. HE WAS STOPPED AND EVENTUALLY KILLED BY MY…MY…HE WAS STOPPED. INSTEAD OF LETTING HIS SOUL PASS ON, I KEPT IT. I WISHED TO STUDY TEATIME'S PHYCHOLOGY YOU SEE. BUT NOW THE AUDITORS HAVE FREED HIM AND THERE IS NO DOUBT THEY'RE TARGET THIS TIME IS JARETH. Death reached into his robe and handed Sarah a piece of parchment. It had a perfect likeness of Jareth on it.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said then, "What does this have to do with me? I knew Jareth for a total of thirteen hours during which he repeated tried to kill me."

I WANT YOU TO HELP ME STOP TEATIME. Sarah gave this idea the laugh it deserved. "No," she said, "a thousand times no. This Teatime guy wants to kill Jareth let him. That 'man' kidnapped my brother and made me go through Hell to get him back. I never want to see him again."

EVEN IF IT MEANS THE WHOLESALE DESTRUCTION OF HUMANITY AS WE KNOW IT.

"Jareth's not that human." Sarah replied icily.

AS YOU WISH, Death said cold as dry ice, BUT I DON'T THINK YOU COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND THE NATURE OF YOU POSITION IN THIS MATTER.

"Meaning what?"

MEANING YOU WERE THE LAST HUMAN EVER TO SEE JARETH. THE AUDITORS KNOW THIS AND WILL HAVE PASSED IT ON TO TEATIME. THE MAN IS IF ANYTHING METHODICAL. HE WILL FIND YOU.

"I'll tell him where to find Jareth."

TEATIME IS THE PERFECT SOCIOPATH. HE ENJOYS KILLING, NO MATTER WHO THE PERSON IS. HE WILL FIND YOU, USE YOU AS BAIT TO CATCH JARETH AND THEN KILL YOU IN THE MOST HORRIBLE WAY YOU CAN IMAGINE.

"Now you're just trying to scare me." Death sighed and pulled an old pocket watch out of his robe. He handed it to Sarah. She opened it. It was gold toned with little sub dials for the month, on for the year, and another that seemed to show little pictures of planets.

SHOULD YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND WHEN TEATIME ARRIVES, HIT THE BUTTON ON THE WATCH AND IT WILL TRANSPORT YOU TO HELP. SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO HELP US AFTER ALL YOU WILL NOT FIGHT TEATIME ALONE. THE WATCH IS SET TO TAKE YOU BACK IN TIME TO PICK UP ANOTHER YOUNG LADY WHO MIGHT BE OF SERVICE. WELL, Death added standing up, THAT'S EVERYTHING FOR THE MOMENT. PLEASE BE CAREFUL WITH THE WATCH IT IS ONE OF ONLY TWO LEFT IN ALL EXISTENCE.

"You're just leaving?" Sarah asked a little incredulously.

YES. I DON'T SEE ANY REASON TO STAY. GOOD LUCK MS. WILLIAMS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR BREAKFAST.

As Death turned away Sarah felt a blow to the back of head and she blacked out. When she awoke she was still sitting at her desk, her face stinging from spending a night on typewriter keys. 'It must have been a really bad dream,' she thought as she looked around. Then she noticed the pocket watch leaning against a steaming plate of fried eggs, bacon, and bread; the eggs slightly burned and a cup of strong tea.

(Please Review)


	3. Chapter 3

(Thank You to all who reviewed, please keep it up

**(Thank You to all who reviewed, please keep it up.)**

**Chapter 3**

**The Truth about Fantasy Shops**

**The Truth in His Eye**

**An Act of Panic**

**The Wizard Who Rolls His Own**

**A Slumping Moment**

Sarah decided to ignore the events of the night before. She locked the watch in her desk drawer. She also tried to scrounge up something different for breakfast, but her cupboards were mysteriously empty. Therefore, she reluctantly ate the food Death's manservant made for her.

She then hurried off to another hellish day at the small fantasy shop she was working at. She found the whole ghastly experience of working there even more tedious in the knowledge that it was accomplishing nothing. She certainly didn't need the job to support herself; she was rolling in plenty of money from her previous books. She was there to do 'research'.

However, one of the things she had learned early while working there was that, while she had no problem taking money off them or even signing autographs for them, she could not stand fantasy enthusiasts one on one. They were so…so…devoted to their hobby. She often quipped to friends that writing fantasy novels and dealing crack were basically the same job, same tactics for different drugs. The irony that she hated devotion to a world she knew more or less existed was not lost on Sarah. Yet she went to that den and smiled at people who told her that they were high ranking wizards and warriors in the strange hope that something would click and she'd be able to return to her life as Sarah Williams, fantasy writer.

So with one thing and another, when Sarah returned home very late to find the power out in her apartment it was less a disaster and more of an inevitability. She tried flicking the light switch a couple of times then sighed and started to grope around the flashlight. As she was bent over looking for the damn thing when she heard a slight sound come from behind her. It was almost like the sound of air escaping from a sealed bottle. It was followed by a high pitched man's voice saying, "Good evening Ms. Williams." Sarah spun around the find a tall gentleman standing right behind her.

She wasn't sure why she thought of him as a gentleman but the label was immediate. He was dressed head to toe in a black suit that while archaic in the extreme still managed to seem incredibly stylish. The man could have been good looking. He was tall and thin and well groomed. His face, with its strong features and curly blonde hair, would have been perfect if it weren't for the eyes. One was missing, replaced by a ball of smooth black crystal. The other entirely grey with a tiny pinpoint of a pupil. He was also holding a large oil lamp which he set down on a table and provided the only light for the room. "Please excuse the lack of light," he continued, "I have a flare for the dramatic." He was smiling in an almost supercilious way.

"Who the Hell are you?" Sarah yelled a real sense of fear creeping up her back. This man was clearly no ordinary burglar, this was different.

"Oh yes, forgive my manners," the man said still calm as anything, "My name is Teea-tor-mee, Jonathan Teea-tor-mee."

"Don't you mean Teatime?" Sarah said remembering what Death had told her. The man's smile went out like a smashed light bulb. It was replaced by a look that combined anger with unspeakable cruelty. "Whoever told you it was that got it wrong," he said very slowly," It's pronounced Teea-tor-mee."

Sarah picked her next words very carefully and said, "Of course, Mr. Teea-tor-mee." Mr. Teatime's manic smile returned as though someone flicked a light switch. "Now Ms. Williams, I want you to think of me as your friend. Or at least a friend of a mutual friend." Sarah nodded and he continued, "I am interested in the current location of the gentleman known as Jareth, King of Goblins.

"Never heard of him…" Sarah began deciding to lie but before she could continue Teatime's hand had snapped to her neck and she was against the wall. In his free hand Teatime held the sharpest knife Sarah had ever seen, and it was dangerously close to her eye. "I would not recommend lying to me again Ms. Williams," Teatime whispered, "unless you want to lose one of those pretty eyes."

She looked into his cold grey eye and saw the truth. He wanted her to lie to him again. He was hoping to have the opportunity to pop her eye out. This man was not only cruel, but somehow warped…unnatural. In his company, death might be a much better alternative to what he could do to one while alive.

"I don't know!" Sarah panicked, "That's the truth…I really don't know."

"Call him." Teatime demanded. Sarah was silent in fear.

"Call him or, and I say this with a great deal of regret, I'll have to kill you."

Sarah heard this as she read another cold statement in his eye. 'You are going to die,' it said, 'This is a fact. No matter what happens I will kill you. The only question is how you will die. If you cooperate, it will be a painless death. If you don't however, there will not be enough of you left for the authorities to find when I'm finished. You will spend the next six hours in unspeakable pain and I assure you, you will be conscious for every moment.'

Sarah was in a corner with only one piece of hope. Her hand had found the flashlight. She brought it up to Teatime's chin just as she brought her knee up to meet his groin. Teatime released her and collapsed in pain. Sarah ran for her bedroom, slammed the door, and barricaded it with her bed. She found her desk light worked and was trying to think her way out of this small room on the tenth floor when a banging came from the door and the voice of Teatime screaming, "You think this door's going to save you, you filthy bitch!" The wood started to splinter and Sarah then remembered the watch. She fumbled with the drawer and just got it open and the watch out when the top panel of the door gave way. She hit the depressed button on the watch.

The world went black. Sarah felt herself being sucked through a very narrow tube. There was no air but she continued to live despite this. And then suddenly, it was all over. It was still pitch black, but now she was definitely breathing and standing on solid ground.

There was a commotion somewhere in front of her that was followed by a familiar, craggy old voice that said, "Bloody 'ell! But it's dark in 'ere. Just a tick Sarah and I'll procure us some lights." There was a snapping sound and a match or lighter came into life in front of her. It moved to the wall where there was and old fashioned button set into it. A gnarled finger pushed it. Lights sprang into life and Sarah found herself in a very old fashioned office. In front of her was the same bent old man who she had seen with Death the night before. He was short and sort of hairy with a hooked nose and a fat belly which protruded from his vest. He took a small packet from his vest and removed some brown stuff. A small piece of paper appeared in his hand into which he sprinkled the brown stuff and then, to her surprise, rolled a cigarette. He put it in his mouth then snapped the fingers of his left hand until his thumb ignited, a small flame standing about half an inch above the nail. He lit the cigarette and took a drag.

"Is that a joint?" Sarah asked incredulously.

"A Joint?" the man asked frowning, and then realizing what she meant said, "Oh…no love. It's just a good old cigarette."

"Your Death cook, aren't you?" Sarah asked.

"Alberto Mallick, Wizard and founder of the Unseen University for Wizards in Ank-Morpork at your service. Call me Albert." The man all but bowed.

"A Wizard who rolls his own cigarettes?" Sarah asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You never know what someone might put in a cigarette," Albert whispered conspiratorially, "Much safer to roll me own you see."

"Okay," Sarah replied, "So why are you here?"

"Death thought you might want a 'and, what with traveling between worlds and all that."

"So which world are we on?" Sarah felt nervous now.

"Still on yours," Albert replied calmly as though this sort of thing happened every day, "about forty years in the past I'd 'ave to say."

Sarah went over to the nearest desk and saw that…yes…the calendar was for 1957. She slumped in a chair. This was too much in one day. She had not only been attacked by a lunatic, but now she was sitting in a year that was twenty years before her birth date. She got a grip, whether she liked it or not she had a job to do. If she didn't find that asshole Jareth then Teatime could very well kill her. "Why am I here?" she asked shakily.

"You're 'ere to find a girl who Death thinks can 'elp you and Jareth.

"What can this girl do?"

"Damned if I know," Albert shrugged and breathed out some of the foul smelling smoke. "She'll be 'ard to convince and our time 'ere is short, it won't be long before he finds us.


	4. Chapter 4

(Big thanks to those who reviewed, keep it up

(Big thanks to those who reviewed, keep it up. I should note now that due a change in plot that caused to introduction of new characters, I must say that I own neither the fine works of the Vies Askew Film Company nor the Musical Wicked. And yes I only worked with the plot from the musical; I personally can't stand the book.)

**Chapter 4**

**The Cave on the Hill**

**The Lady of Ice**

**The Goblin City**

**The Regent**

**The Coming of Winter**

In the border lands between the countries of men and the kingdom of the goblins there stood a cave high on a hill. Neither goblin nor human often went there for the cave was the home of an evil force. Often strange, unbearable noise would come from the cave and travel as far as the Labyrinth wall on the goblin side and the village of Stone the Crows on the human side. Sometimes strange, other worldly items would fly out of the mouth of the cave. Only the bravest and dumbest on both sides would go to face the force inside only to stubble home hours or even days later not knowing what day it was or who they were.

But something braved the noise. Something dodged the silver thing that flew down the hill. Something passed through the curtain of smoke and something coughed politely. This had no effect on the two forms that could be seen through the smoke. One continued to jerk around as if the noise was painful. The other remained fixed, smoke rising from its mouth.

Excuse me, but could you please turn off that noise.

The Auditor then repeated this a little louder and the fixed form took notice and bent over to turn off his boom box.

"Yo, what the fuck Silent Bob?" The moving figure stopped as the smoke cleared so that the Auditor could see him as stringy thirty-year old with dirty blonde hair. The heavyset man in the long coat leaning against the wall never said a word but merely pointed at the Auditor.

"Who the fuck are you?" The stringy guy seemed to speak for both of them.

Are you the one they call the Hag?

"Shit no," the man was adamant, "I'm Jay and this is Silent Bob. We're from Jersey. And what are you? Some sort of gay fag cloud or something?"

I am an Auditor.

"Jesus Christ," Mr. Jay seemed unable to stop talking, "Those little troll things were bad enough, and now we've got this gay fag cloud going around. Come on Silent Bob, get that cursed weasel's head out we're going back to Jersey."

Wait just a minute. Do you know where the Hag is?

"Sure, that Bitch lives in the cave on the next hill over."

Thank You.

The heavy set one stepped forward for the first time and said simply, "You know, we all want a lot of things. That doesn't mean we should have them."

What?

Silent Bob shrugged.

…….

Now there was another cave of similar size and shape in the next hill over. Naturally no one went to this hill either. This was because everyone knew that the cave was populated by an old hag. She had once been a great sorceress, but now she was close to death and nearly forgotten. The amazing powers she had once used to destroy worlds and hold continents in ice had now diminished with age. Now she could only flood her cave with ice, in the hope that it would chill the fire in her blood. And there she sat wishing for death or revenge, whichever came first, when…

…Somebody coughed.

The Hag looked up. She wasn't surprised by what met her eyes though she hadn't actually expected it to happen. "What do you want Master Auditor?"

We wish to arrange a deal with you.

"What kind?"

You are aware that barely a league to the east stands the Kingdom of Goblins?

"Yes,"

We want you to conquer it.

The Hag laughed. "You must jest Master Auditor."

We have no sense of humor.

"I am too old, and my magic is gone."

We will restore you.

"The lion took my youth and power."

We don't play by the lion's rules. Why should we? He doesn't play by ours.

As the Auditor finished a strong wind blew through the cave. The Hag felt burning all over her body. Then the unthinkable happened. Her bones straightened. Her thin grey hair filled in and became the blonde of earlier years. Her skin, grey and weathered from a thousand years of hard living, became smooth and pearly white.

The Witch straightened. The magic came easily to her now. In an instant the rags she wore restored themselves into the fine blue gown they had once been. Another moment and a small mirror was in her hand and she was examining her face. It was flawless.

The Auditor floated forward. It extended a tendril of the smoky stuff it was composed of. From the folds of this substance came a long, silver and glass wand. The Witch starred at it in awe. "Why?"

We need what's Underground.

"Oh…that. I suppose you would like that."

If you help us we will not interfere with your Kingdom. And we promise you will never fade again.

"Before I can get down there the current King will have to die."

We are attending to that.

The Witch thought very carefully before her next action. If she was completely honest with herself it seemed like every time she did something stupid it was because she had not thought it through properly. The Auditors had something in mind, and it could very well mean no good at all to everyone else. On the other hand, the Auditors offered her what could be the world if she played her cards right. And there was her wand. Her one true and faithful friend. She had thought it destroyed and yet there it was in the auditors grasp. She knew what must come next. She took the wand, felt its silver grip warm in her hand. She whispered, "I've missed you old friend. Just think what great things we will do this time." She then turned to the Auditor and said, "We have work to do." Just for that moment, for less than a second, the Auditor wished he could smile.

...

The Citadel square of the Goblin City had never been so full. It seemed the entire city had come out of their homes to see and hear the mysterious White Lady. She had stridden into town that morning having left the gate guard as a stone statue. She had told the first person who came running to tell the city she would speak at thirteen o'clock. Some had said she was a Witch.

At Thirteen on the dot the White Lady stepped onto a small podium that had appeared in front of the fountain. The goblins could only stare. Over the years they had seen many pretty human women come and go as Jareth brought them to the Labyrinth and they retreated. This woman was different. She was certainly beautiful, but there was something else. She was stately, they felt like bowing.

"Goblins!" she began, "That is quite the word isn't it…Goblin. A thousand years that simple word could cause the humans on the other side of the borderlands to soil themselves. Do you know what they say now?" the Goblins, energized by the flattery screamed the wish to know. "They laugh," that shut them up. Goblins are tough creatures and to be the punch line in someone's joke is not the way to improve relations with them.

"Do you want to know why?" the goblins nodded. "Because have fallen. Look at yourselves! A thousand years ago the Kingdom of Goblins covered half this world. The human could do nothing but fear you. Then came the fall. Then came lazy morons like your King Jareth and what happened? Your Kingdom was lost bit by bit until now all you have is this ruinous labyrinth. Yes, here you live in peace, but you are not weak peace loving creatures like humans. YOU ARE GOBLINS!" The crowd roared. "Since the first of your ancestors climbed from the primordial muck and stood on its feet, your race has had one goal, to make war. We cannot deny who we are, so the Goblins must have war. Throw of the chains of peace. Dethrone that fool Jareth and crown me and you will have WAR!!"

The crowd went wild. She had them, she had done it before. It was then that the doors of the castle doors opened. The Citadel filled with what looked like humans. She knew them as Sidle, the aristocracy that had ruled the Goblins since the creation of the Labyrinth. They were dressed in what she recognized as a Victorian style, with the addition of wire-rimmed spectacles with tinted lenses, such is fashion. She would have to tred carefully with these people; she would need them to rule. However, the old man in the grey suit coming down under a heavy guard of Goblin soldiers, was certainly human, the Witch could tell. He came up to her.

"What's going on here?" he asked in a tired, suspicious voice.

"This is just a small political shakeup," The Witch responded cordially, "and whom do I have the honor of addressing."

"The Wizard Diggs, Regent and Chancellor to his majesty Jareth King of Goblins, Duke of the Goblin City, and Lord of the Labyrinth." The man replied coldly, "and who are you?"

"Jadis," she said, "The White Witch. Queen of Goblins, Duchess of the Goblin City, and Lady of the Labyrinth." She smiled, she knew the stories of this humbug well, she was made. The wind whipped a cold breeze through the streets and snow began to fall. Jadis only smiled more then looked The 'Wizard' in the eyes and said, "I think winter has come at last."


End file.
